


Summer Night

by BabyBeBop



Category: Looking (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Love, M/M, Romance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8842435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBeBop/pseuds/BabyBeBop
Summary: Patrick has some feelings about Richie's new tattoo. Sequel to Summer Love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to mention in the notes for [Summer Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8802841) that this story takes place before [Home for the Holidays](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8522983/chapters/19536760). I don't know if that was obvious or not. Also, if you haven't read Home for the Holidays - Chiquita is their dog. She's a Chihuahua.  
> I'm on tumblr [here](https://babybebopfanfic.tumblr.com/).

Patrick rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling. The digital alarm clock read 4:30 am. Richie was sleeping soundly, but he had barely been able to catch a wink. His mind was racing.

The room felt hot and stuffy. Patrick kicked back the sheet and got out of bed, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand. He quietly tiptoed out of the room, stepping into the hallway to adjust the thermostat.

It only took a second to find Dom’s number in his phone. While he waited for him to pick up, Patrick suddenly, regretfully, remembered what time it was in San Francisco. 

“Paddy?” Dom finally answered, sounding only half awake. 

“I’m so sorry,” Patrick immediately apologized. He settled on the couch in the living room, tucking his legs underneath him. “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

Chiquita had been sleeping in her dog bed near the couch. She scampered over, hopping up to sit next to him. 

“It's ok,” Dom muttered. “What’s going on?”

Patrick petted Chiquita’s head and chewed on his lip. The only way he was going to work through his feelings about this was by talking to his friends. Since they couldn’t hash it out over coffee in the morning, this would have to do. “Richie got a tattoo,” he blurted out.

“Okaaay,” Dom drawled. “And why is that big news?”

“Because it’s my _name_ ,” Patrick shot back, panic rising in his voice. “He got my name tattooed on his fucking arm.”

Dom laughed, loudly, into the phone. “Aww, Paddy,” he said, still chortling. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” Patrick admitted, reluctantly. “It is. It’s just…the more I think about it, the more it scares the shit out of me, you know? I mean, what if…what if something happens?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick sighed. “It just feels like a bad omen.”

Dom grumbled and there were sounds on his end like he was getting out of bed. “Normally, I’d agree with you on this,” he said. “Getting your partner’s name tattooed on your body is relationship suicide.”

Patrick’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Dom, you’re supposed to be making me feel better.”

“Just let me finish,” Dom retorted. “I was going to say that you guys seem pretty solid – and obviously Richie feels the same way, or he wouldn’t have done it.”

Patrick could hear Dom pouring breakfast cereal into a bowl and it made his own stomach grumble. He wondered if there was any leftover pizza in the fridge.

“Why don’t you just talk to him about it?” Dom suggested.

Patrick got up and went into the kitchen, Chiquita following behind him. He opened the refrigerator and stared at its contents. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings – he’s so proud of it – and I _do_ like it. It looks really good.”

“Then what’s the problem then?”

Patrick shrugged, grabbing a Tupperware and nudging the refrigerator door closed. “I think…” he paused, putting the cold pizza in the microwave and clicking the timer. “I think, maybe it’s because things have been going so well for us. We’re finally on the same page and we’re happy. I just don’t want anything to change.”

“It’s just a tattoo,” Dom reminded him. “How is it going to change your relationship?”

Patrick gaped into the phone. “You _just_ said - relationship suicide, remember?”

“What the fuck do I know?” Dom responded defensively. “Look at my dating history. I’d love it if some guy cared enough about me to have my name tattooed on his arm.”

Patrick grimaced. That was a fair point. Richie was wonderful and perfect and he was losing sleep obsessing over something that wasn’t even all that important. He took the pizza out of the microwave and sat down at the kitchen table with it. 

“You’re right,” he admitted, around a mouthful of pizza. “I’m overthinking it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Ha Ha. Very funny.”

“I need to go back to bed, Paddy,” Dom yawned.

“Yeah, me too, right after I finish eating.”

“I’ll call you back later – just talk to Richie about it if you start freaking out again, ok?”

“I will. Good night. Sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s alright. I’ve missed having to talk you down from the ledge.”

Patrick smiled. “I’ve missed you too.”

**

Richie was making scrambled eggs when Patrick came into the kitchen the next morning. He walked over and gave him a quick kiss. “Good morning.”

Richie studied him, thoughtfully. “Did you get any sleep? You don’t look good.”

“Ugh, no,” Patrick admitted, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

Richie turned back to the stove, breaking up the scrambled eggs with a spatula. “You worried about anything?” he asked, not looking up.

Patrick leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee. “Um, yeah,” he hesitated, trying to decide the best way to bring it up. “I, uh, got a little freaked out about the tattoo, actually.”

Richie looked up, smirking at him. “Yeah, I thought you might.”

“Really?” Patrick was surprised. 

“I know it was a risky thing to do,” Richie admitted, scraping the eggs onto a plate. “I changed my mind about it a few times, but then I thought, you know, fuck it. I love you and I’m committed to you, so why not?”

Patrick beamed at him. He really did love him so very much. “You’re not afraid that it might be bad luck or something?”

Richie shook his head, unconcerned. “A tattoo isn’t going to change our future, Patrick.” He handed him a plate. “Here, have some breakfast.”

Patrick took the plate from him and grabbed a fork. 

“Besides,” Richie added nonchalantly. “If we break up, I’ll just have to find another boyfriend named Patrick.”

“Hey!” Patrick laughed, giving him a playful swat on the arm. 

Richie smiled, leaning in close to give him a kiss. “I’m just teasing you, Pato. You know you’re the only guy for me, right?”

“Yeah,” Patrick grinned broadly, feeling his heart swell in his chest. “I know.”

“Good.” Richie gave him another peck on the lips and a pat on the butt. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

They sat down at the kitchen table, their plates loaded up with eggs and chorizo sausage. Patrick poured coffee into their mugs. Nearby, Chiquita crunched loudly on her kibbles. 

“You know, I think it looks even better today,” Patrick pointed out, glancing at Richie’s arm. “It’s not so red anymore.”

“Maybe you’re getting used to it,” Richie suggested.

“Mmhm, maybe I am,” Patrick agreed, nudging his foot underneath the table.


End file.
